


naughtycollegeboygetsfuckedXX.mp4

by subtextual



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 100 PERCENT SAFE, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Dirty Talk, Bottom Dean, CLICK TO READ, Dean gets off on it, Dirty Talk, Dom Castiel, Drunk Dean, Dubious Consent, Due to Alcohol, FULL HD, Food Kink, Food Sex, Humiliation kink, I promise you will not get a virus, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, MUST BE AN ADULT, Masturbation, NO VIRUSES, Older Castiel, PORN QUALITY 100 PERCENT, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Spanking, Sub Dean, TRUMP APPROVED, Top Castiel, Twink Dean, Unrealistic Sex, Vegetables, Walmart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtextual/pseuds/subtextual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunk college student tries to steal a shopping cart and later pie from his local Walmart. He gets caught by 32 year old employee and punished. The horny boy is fucked by a vegetable in the produce aisle.</p><p>CLICK TO READ FULL HD PORN QUALITY 100 % MUST BE 18 YEARS OR OLDER<br/>NO VIRUSES! VIRUS SAFE CHECKED WITH ANTI-ANTI-VIRUS WAREX10<br/>TRUMP APPROVED<br/>***</p><p>Dean is a sophomore in college who can be just a bit of an asshole with a whole lot of bad ideas. One night while wasted he decides to try and steal a shopping cart. </p><p>Castiel is a professional dominant who works at the BDSM club in town when it is unexpectedly shut down. He really hates that he has to work night shifts at the Walmart Supercenter, until he doesn't.</p><p>It all just sounds like a really bad porno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	naughtycollegeboygetsfuckedXX.mp4

**Author's Note:**

> This is porn with little background. While Castiel may be a professional dominant in this here he is influenced by built up lust and frustration. This is not a representation of D/S dynamics or safe BDSM, it is just porn. You have been warned. 
> 
> Have fun reading my trashy porn!

_**naughtycollegeboygetsfuckedXX.mp4** _

_** ** _

* * *

 

 _BAD IDEA #69 -_ Steal a shopping cart from a store parking lot 

Some people looked on at those times they got really, really wasted and thought to themselves-  _ what the fuck am I doing with my life?  _ It wasn’t fond memories they had of the past night, but just a low groan and wondering  _okay, now what asshole decided to put me up on Youtube?_   For Dean he never had these moments. Instead he looked on at each time he got wasted and how he would top it for the next time. It was the kinda living-on-the edge life that any twenty something broke college kid who lived on canned soup aspired to be. Someday his fellow students would look back at him and go  _yeah, that dude was kinda fucked in the head but at least he had a good time doing it_.  And god damn it, that was the kind of legacy Dean Winchester would leave.

Fast forward to two am on a Friday night. Dean had a couple six packs of beer he jacked from his roommate, Benny, and the fucker’s car too. Safe to say Benny really pissed him off. Recording over Dr. Sexy and Star Trek for some shit on HBO about vampires was Not Fucking Cool. So after locking Benny naked in the bathroom of his dorm he grabbed the keys to his pick up truck and his beer, laughing at him for good measure, and ran out of there.

Driving drunk was not a good idea. In fact it was a totally bad idea that could get him to crash Benny’s truck. That was why he waited till he got to the parking lot of Walmart to down the rest of the six pack. Okay, so maybe he’d been kinda buzzed on the way over. Point was he only flipped three people off, cussed out one douchebag in a Lincoln Continental, and ran into a total of two and a half cars. Not three ‘cause a Prius didn’t count for one car. They were shitty, shitty examples of a car and did not deserved to be called one.

So Dean found himself in the parking lot draining the rest of his six pack and generally being an asshole to anyone in the vicinity. He was a few dozen beers into the night and he needed to do something awesome enough that he could brag to his roommate when he got back. That’s when Dean remembered his list.

The list was a collection of Bad Ideas he made while high with Ash and right before the mullet-rocking god fucked him into next week. Obviously it held good memories. If maybe a few stains on the paper. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the crumbled list and searched for any Bad Ideas that fit with being at Walmart. And that’s when he saw number sixty nine. 

Ha, sixty nine. Never did let him down, did it? Dean grinned a bit too widely, his green eyes sparking with light as he considered just how the fuck he was gonna steal a shopping cart. Well, whatever. It couldn’t be too hard.

* * *

The only thing right now that is keeping Dean going is _Bad Blood_ by Taylor Swift blasting in the background. At some point he brought out his phone to record the whole thing of him stealing a shopping cart but then he realized how difficult is was to try and get one into Benny’s tiny little freakin’ pick up truck one handed while holding the phone. Of course asking the poor bastards who walked out of Walmart to record him stealing a shopping cart didn’t go too well either.

Now almost three am, and he still didn’t get why trying to lift this fucker was so impossible. “C’mon you son of a bitch,” he groaned, trying to hold the cart over his head so he could get it in the bed of his trunk. “Ughhh you stupid fucking thing. Asshole. I hate you. Mother fuck-” Dean stopped mid rant, almost falling over and the cart slamming hard to the ground in the process. He watched helplessly as it rolled across the parking lot.

To his complete disbelief and shitty, shitty Winchester luck it rolled right into a car and the alarm started blaring. To his even greater disbelief it was the same crappy Lincoln Continental from earlier. Poor bastard. The longer he stared the more he realized how his forehead stung.

“Maybe doing this drunk wasn’t the best idea,” Dean mumbled to himself, and used the corner of his AC/DC shirt to wipe the bloody cut from his forehead. He picked up his phone again to hit record.

Dean flashed a grin he didn’t entirely feel as he kept bleeding. “Sooo it’s 3:27 am and I’m still in the parking lot of Walmart. This shopping cart is kicking my ass. I don’t know how but now my head’s bleeding. Fuck, I’m really drunk,” he continued narrating. Colors spun around him for a few seconds before they stopped. “And Benny’s still an asshole for recording over my TV shows. This is all Benny’s fault. Benny if you are watching this later I hate you,” he ranted.

From selfie mode that he was recording Dean noticed he could see the truck in the background. And that’s when it hit him. Holy shit. He had to open the tailgate of the pickup. Because it was _closed_. Oh. Yeah. Now it all made sense. Stopping the video he shoved his phone back in his pocket and got up with new found determination. If it killed Dean he was gonna steal a mother fucking shopping cart. With that thought in mind he gripped the bars of the shopping cart, heaved a deep breath, and lifted.

Ten minutes later Dean was back to where he started. Though obviously he was much better off. Y’know. ‘Cause he solved one of his problems with the whole bed of the truck thing. Around him there was nothing except silence along with his occasional grunting. Picking up a shopping cart shouldn’t be this hard. He worked out. Riding the silicone dildo that he kept stuck to the wall near his bed had to count for something, right? Dean took that fucker in deep too, bounced up and down as the springs of his mattress creaked and until his thighs burned. He should totally be able to steal this mother.

Taking in a deep breath he tried to lift it again. More grunting. And some thrusting as his hands gripped the sides of the cart hard enough it left indents pressed into his skin. “Fucking hell.” Grunt. Thrust. Grunt. Thrust. “Oh fuck. Fuck.”

Across the parking lot he noticed an employee coming over- hell, they were more like storming over. Dean realized this must look bad like he was practically dry humping a shopping cart. Immediately he jumped away, eyes wide and holding his hands up in the air. It was a familiar enough position. He got into fights a lot and shit. Sometimes a cop had to manhandle him. When the Walmart employee came close enough he saw that the silhouette was male. Oh fuck. What if people got in trouble for jacking store property? What if he got fined for this? “I’m sorry dude- I... I’m drunk, and I didn’t mean--”

Immediately Dean got cut off, by the roughest voice he ever heard outside a porno. All low and hot. Real throaty too, Dean had no comparison to make except that maybe if a voice had the ability to fuck somebody this is what it sounded like. “I am indifferent to what you do in your free time including committing an act of paraphilia with an inanimate object. My concern is that you are on public property and that is my car you have now hit for the second time tonight,” the man lectured.

Wow. Holy shit. Jaw dropped he had a hard- and thinking of, in more ways then one now- time focusing on anything but that voice. It took Dean several seconds of staring before he started to comprehend what happened. Right, he was in trouble and not the fun kind. “Shit yeah I know man. I’m real sorry. I just uh, I was bored y’know and I thought this could be fun and I’m drunk like I said,” he rambled. With one hand he rubbed the back of his neck. “Please don’t... call the cops?” The sentence trailed off. It sounded just as pathetic as it did in his head.

“Why should I not call the police on you for loitering and vandalization?” Blue eyes challenged, his eyes freakin’ steel. They were such a blazing blue he couldn’t focus. Fuck Walmart Employee Guy was hot. Eyes narrowed a bit he tried to read the name tag pinned to the chest of his white polo. Nothin’.

Tongue darting out to lick his lips Dean thought of a half way intelligent response. Wait, did blue eyes say vandalization? Dean’s face burned hot. ‘Course he woulda thought that. Fumbling in his pocket he pulled out the Bad Idea list then attempted to clear his throat. “Uh, no. No! No it wasn’t- was not... that. I would never-” he hesitated, coughing once into his hand. Stupid fucking beer not doing it’s job. He should be buzzed enough where being accused of jizzing on a shopping card didn’t bother him. “Just look at this,” he finished lamely and shoved the list at the man.

Walmart Employee Guy took the list with one hand, holding it up towards the light radiating from the front of the parking lot. “Hmm.” He squinted, head tilted slightly and clearly tryna read Dean’s shitty handwriting. Then his lips curled up in disgust as he gripped the list until the paper crunched. Okay, blue eyes was pissed. Though he couldn’t tell why.

The list now thrust in his face Dean stared back at his own writing. “What is it?”

“I stopped at number twenty-three,” began the man dryly. “While having sex with both the actor who plays Dr. Sexy and his wife is quite fascinating, I am afraid I was unable to continue reading after the semen stains.” Walmart Employee Guy raised an eyebrow and despite all of Dean’s fucking embarrassment at this entire situation it still made him want to drop to his knees. Holy fuck.

Not sure what to do he started by covering how turned on he was with an awkward laugh.

“Do you have an explanation Mr...” A pause. “Dean Winchester?”

Woah, he really loved how his name sounded from the man’s lips. With how wasted he was Dean practically had to force himself from getting out his phone to record this fucker. “Okay, yeah. Yeah I do. So I’m in college right?”

Blue eyes darted up and down his face. He counted it a win with the whole lingering thing. “I can tell. I am Castiel, if you can not see my name tag in the dark,” Walmart Employee Guy said, voice patient.

“Castiel- Cas. Awesome. Okay so Cas me ‘n my friend were high as a mother fucking kite, he just finished pounding my--”

“I do not require this level of detail, Dean.” Cas shifted where he stood.

“Right. Shit. Sorry. So point is after we um, we did... stuff we got this idea to make a list of Bad Ideas to do. Y’know for fun. Being totally broke makes you creative, I guess. Or stupid. Or both. Point is we made the list and number sixty nine on their is stealing a shopping cart. That’s what I was tryna do. I’m just drunk. High tolerance, though. Makes talking easier. Or not ‘cause I’m rambling and... yeah. What I’m trying to say is I uh, I was not violating shit. And definitely not fucking a shopping cart. Just stealing one.” Dean’s words were a complete clusterfuck but he managed to smile brightly at the end.

Cas watched him. When he spoke again his voice was a dull monotone. “You do realize you admitted to stealing, correct?” Yeah, that did not look like a happy face. No matter how good his stubble looked.

“...I guess?”

Huffing Cas shook his head. He rubbed his temples, and Dean’s eyes shot to how long of fingers he had. They reminded him of the kind those artists types had except rougher hands in general. They weren’t totally calloused like someone who did hard labor, more so pointing to the fact he must have a job outside Walmart.

Cas moving his hands brought him back to reality. “I do not have the patience nor time to deal with this tonight. Continue to loiter all night if you wish, but I need to get back to work. Have a good night,” he said, tone laced of such finality that told Dean fucking with the guy was not an option.

About to voice his agreement Dean shut his mouth when Cas began speaking again. “And under _no circumstances_ may you hit my car for a third time.” Then the man walked off. Damn.

While now he was bored. Maybe he should check to see if the truck had more beer. And a quick jerk off to blue eyes couldn’t hurt. These jeans were fucking tight. Walking the short distance to Benny’s car in the dark he stumbled a few times. Then again maybe that was due to the whole drunk factor. When he got to the truck he slammed the door behind him, sat down for maybe five seconds before struggling to pull his cock outta his jeans. Dean remembered that unbuttoning jeans was a thing and zippers right after.

Grunting he finally got himself out and immediately got to work. His hands caught the lace of the panties he wore once or twice. Cock half hard already he yanked roughly and moaned. Imagining they were Cas’ hands far too easy with how his head spun. Normally he would stroke the length a couple times but Cas that fucker would just go for it. Dean jerked his hips forward, legs spread wide. Mouth open his throat vibrated along with the thud as he thrusted. _What would Cas do now?_ He thought to himself panting. Dean’s hand curled around his cock, desperately tryna make it tight enough for the pressure building. Shit. He couldn’t believe he was fucking into his fist in the parking lot of Walmart, all because of some asshole with blue eyes. Oh. They’d do that squinty thing again ‘cept this time it’d be all intense and that voice that would just- just fucking growl. “Fuck,” he breathed.

“Ah, shit. Ca- Cas.” He thrust harder into his hand, leaning his head back against the seat. Eyes closing with a shaky gasp he thought of Cas on top of him. The firm press of his one hand with those long fingers on his chest. Maybe they would even play with his nipples. Roll ‘em around and pinch one. Oh, it’d hurt so good, so hot. And his other hand sending him over the edge, the tiny lines of his knuckles visible as he twisted his cock and-

_“Cas!”_

Eyes shot wide Dean’s vision blurred around him. It hit him hard, the blood pumping through his veins while his chest heaved. And fuck, fuck all so intense. It’s not like he didn’t jerk off often- not like he doesn’t know the high- all waves of pleasure and that god damn heat. Somehow Cas made it all that much better.

And then while his cock is still twitching every few seconds and his heart still racing Dean realizes. He came all over the floor of Benny’s car.

* * *

 Stocking the shelves at Walmart during his night shift at the 24-hour Supercenter and switching off with his coworker Hannah to work the register is not what bothers Castiel, really. What he detests more about his job is the complete idiocy of the people who come in, especially those who would go to Walmart at three in the morning in the first place.

Castiel missed working at Heaven. He missed the incense candles the club used that boosted endorphins and the gentle rays of light that lit his private room. Perhaps, most of all, he missed those he came in for a scene. Of course there had been those that frustrated him, those who attempted to push him over his edge and ignored the rules set in place completely. Not all did, though. And his regulars always made his day. He loved being with those that craved submission. Loved to make all their worries disappear and center them around peace, around bliss.

Obviously grasping a can of preserved vegetable broth could never compare to the feel of soft flesh as he grasped a client, fingers sliding down to one wrist to bind the two together. Once more Castiel sighed and reminded himself this job was not permanent. He would find another club to hire him or at worst start free lancing. Though it would be costly to do, especially with all the toys he needed to buy. Not that he didn’t have his own extensive collection... professional domming always required more.

For the next ten minutes or so Castiel continued stocking the aisle when a loud moan cut through his thoughts. His first thought should probably be more along the lines of _why is a man moaning in an aisle inside the store?_ but instead he can’t help the tension. The tightness and his- oh dear God, his hard on only getting worse as he continues to listen to every desperate groan and pant.

Against his better judgment Castiel sets down the crate of cans he had been stocking to walk across the aisle to where he heard the sounds coming from. The sight that greets him only makes the slacks he is wearing all the more tighter. In the middle of the bakery aisle stands the college boy from earlier, Dean Winchester, and he is eagerly eating from a container of pie. Eating... did not truly describe what the boy looked like. One of his hands was coated in whip cream, moving up to his lips every so often to suck at each of his fingers.

“Oh, holy shit,” Dean moaned as he sucked faster. Those pink, plump lips of his wrapped tight around the digit. The muscles of his throat worked, adam’s apple bobbing as he continued to consume the pie entirely. Castiel shifted where he stood. It was the most erotic sight he had seen in far too long, and as Dean’s moans got all the more louder so did his own rage.

Did he even have plans on paying for the pie? Did Castiel not tell him that he was only allowed to loiter? Who even ate food as if they... they were performing oral?

Castiel allowed himself only moments of watching Dean before he sighed heavily, willed his hard on to go down, and approached the boy. “Dean,” he kept his voice stern, professional. How any employee would act after catching a thief in the store. Across from him the boy’s head snapped up, face flushed such a pretty pink. Castiel noticed how his freckles stood out when he was embarrassed. They dusted over his entire face and the tan of his skin complimented so nicely. Oh, hell.

“I- fuck. I’m sorry Cas! I know you said... but I, I got hungry ‘an I’m really drunk and this pie’s so good,” Dean stumbled over his every word. It was painfully adorable- the slurring. Then again even a few feet away he could smell the alcohol on the boy’s breath. As bright of eyes as Dean had they were murky from his high levels of consumption. Castiel took to staring into his eyes. Drunk. The boy was drunk. He had to remind himself of that.

“Dean... I can not let this go. You still have some er, cream from the pie you ate on your lips. It-” Castiel stopped, running a hand through his hair and releasing a breath. “This night has been long and awful. Please just pay for the pie and leave.”

Something shifted in the boy. A spark in his eyes or a shift in his stance. Finally. This would be over, Dean was clearly reaching for his pocket to get out cash to pay for the dessert... all would be fine. And in a few hours it would be the morning so he could go home. Distracted by his thoughts Castiel nearly did not notice how the boy’s lips quirked up into a challenging smirk. Then he spoke.

“Make me.”

Castiel blinked. Once, twice. Surely he did not hear Dean correctly. “Excuse me?” His tone was polite, his eyebrows drawn up in confusion.

The boy leaned in, his breath hot in Castiel’s face. It smelt of beer, fresh apples, and sugar. “Make. Me,” he repeated. This time there was no denying that smirk, all playful and smug like he thought of the best idea ever. Just like that, just as Castiel realized Dean had the _audacity_ to toy with him his control snapped.

Castiel grabbed Dean by the back of the neck, gripping the short hair that grew in a vice hold and pushing the boy down hard into the wooden shelf. With the force he used a few of the pies and cakes knocked over, along with a black LOW PRICE sign. “Say it again,” he demanded, baring the boy’s throat. A whine escaped Dean that only drove him further over the edge. “You want me to make you do _what_ , exactly?”

Blood pumping furiously and his cock aching he pushed Dean further into the shelf. “Answer me.”

“Ah- ah, fuck. Cas. Fuck you are strong. Shit. I, I get it. ‘M sorry,” the boy cried. His breath came out fast, almost gasping. “I just- you are hot and... I won’t do it again. Won’t tease you,” he promised quickly.

The words stopped Castiel completely. “You- you think I’m hot.” He was dumbfounded, and now very much so aware of the security camera with it’s small blinking red light that could be recording this. Normally he would be apologizing, remembering quite well how drunk Dean was and even offering to drive the boy back to his dorm. Not now. Now all he could focus on was that Dean clearly felt the attraction to, and that the boy very well could have been a pain simply because he wanted his attention. Castiel moved his hand letting him up.

Dean swallowed with eyes blown wide. The two stared at each other. Castiel shifted trying in vain to hide the tent in his slacks. It all would have been fine, perhaps. They could have gone their separate ways and never spoken to each other again. If only Dean hadn’t said those three words. “Fuck, you’re big.”

It set him off. The last person to tell him he was big had been a boy around Dean’s age, twenty two or twenty three with sandy blond hair and a love for dirty talk. In scene Castiel called him a slut while he fucked the boy open with a dildo.

One glance at the security camera and Castiel bent the boy over. Hand gripping the back of his neck he growled, “follow me,” in his ear. Not waiting he released his hand and began the short walk over to the produce aisle. Castiel did not have any particular reason for this other then the fact he knew there were no security cameras. Of course a customer could walk by at any time, but at this point he did not even care. 

* * *

 Fuck. This is really freakin’ uncomfortable. Dean woulda thought he’d be too drunk to care, but gripping the edges of a shelf right next to where a thing of green onions, spinach, and a buncha other vegetables are is real damn awkward. The only reassurance is Cas’ firm hands rubbing over the tops of his thighs. And Dean, he just wants. “C’mon man, please. Please fuck me Cas. I’m dying over here. I need you,” he begged, not giving a shit how he must sound.

Above him Cas hummed. “I do not know if you deserve me to fuck you, Dean,” the man began in that rough as hell voice. “You were bad. Very bad. Remember when you hit my car and flipped me off through your window?” He questioned.

Dean has no fucking clue how Cas can sound so calm. He can feel the fucker’s hard on from where he is bent over him. No one has that kinda self control. Instead of saying anything he just whined. At this point he would move his own hands, maybe even start playing with his ass but his hands are tied. Though he could break it easily, Cas used a few of those small plastic bags that people bagged vegetables with after all, he had been told not to. Specifically Cas warned him he’d be ‘punished’- that kinky son of a bitch.

So his hands are tied above his head and if he looked up Dean could see the roller from where Cas got the grochery bags. The vegetables also have linked some kinda misting system so a drop of water drips down his face and then chest every few seconds. This is not what Dean should be thinking about. He should be getting his brains fucked out. “Caaaass,” he groaned.

“Patience, boy,” Cas breathed hotly in his ear and hell if that doesn’t shut him up. Another hum. “I think you need to be punished. You attempted to steal from my work. You stole a pie and ate it, moaning like a whore where anyone could hear you. And you think you deserve to be fucked?”

Holy shit. Dean released a heavy breath, his cock twitching in his panties. He regretted wearing these now, god damn it. They were trapping him when he was already shoved against some lettuce and a bunch of other rabbit food. “Please dude. Even your fingers. Fuck, anything,” he groaned.

Suddenly a hand comes down on his jean clad ass. It fucking stings, and Dean gritted his teeth when Cas did it again. “Sir,” the man said sharply. “You will call me sir.”

Against his better judgement Dean laughed. What? It’s all kinda funny, and maybe being drunk makes him giggle over stupid shit. “Sir,” he mocked, which was probably dumb with how much his ass hurts. “Okay _sir_.” Dean tries to twist his head around to show Cas he isn’t all that serious, and he’s totally up for some kinky bedroom shit if that’s what the man wants. But then the air shifts and he can actually hear Cas breath in--

The cold air alerts Dean that Cas ripped off his jeans and panties. Smack, smack, smack. Another. Out of nowhere Cas is bringing his hand down in a flurry of hard smacks and then Dean is howling. It is this unbelievable heat on his ass, this bloom of tingling pain that hurts so fucking good. What the fuck is wrong with his head? He cried out, arching his back and actually pressing towards Cas as he delivered his next blow.

Cas doesn’t disappoint. He has maybe hit Dean’s ass ten or so times now and he is still freakin’ going. Why isn’t he stopping him? The sound is like a god damn whip in the store; the _crack, crack, crack_ as his hand hit his bare flesh. It is the same mother fucking spot too, this spot right on one ass cheek that makes Dean spread his thighs and yelp. Just as Cas slowed his hand he cried out, “Cas, shit. Don’t stop. Feels so good.”

A grunt and one sharp spanking right over his hole that turns off Dean’s brain. “ _Sir_.”

He realized his mistake immediately. “Right, fuck. Sir. Sorry. Please, sir? I just, I need you,” Dean babbled. It’s weird as fuck but he really likes this. Hell, he wants more of it. More even as Cas’ hand increases in power and pace. More even as he lets out a whine that is desperate as fuck. His face is flushed, a frantic pink spread over his entire body.

“Of course. You are such a good boy, Dean.” The praise jumped straight to his cock. This has got to be the craziest shit he had ever done. They haven’t even fucked and he is beyond turned on.

Shifting slightly Dean tried to turn around. He wanted to see Cas, wanted to fucking kiss him and watch how his blue eyes got all intense. Though when he attempted to he was only spanked again. Not nearly as hard as before ‘cept by now his ass had to be a bright red. “Do not move. Those bags are clearly not proper bondage and will not hold you for long,” Cas ordered.

Proper bondage. Proper bondage. Dean repeated the wording to himself a few times in shock. What the- what kinda fucking shit did a thirty two or so year old man who worked at Walmart get up to in his spare time? Fuck. Dean swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I- I won’t,” he promised.

Cas cooed, reached out one hand and stroked his fingers through his hair like he was a freakin’ dog. The sensation against his scalp felt good, really good. Smiling, Dean closed his eyes while dipping his head back. “You are so pretty for me. Such a pretty boy... But I haven’t forgotten about earlier, Dean. You still need to be punished,” he reminded lowly.

Aw, shit. Dean groaned heavily as his shoulders drooped. He just wanted to be fucked. He freakin’ needed Cas’ cock in him. And he really, really could do with a quick handjob. Ass still burning did nothin’ to change all that either. If anything he was more eager. “Fuck. Okay. Punish me. But then fuck me, please? I need it sir. Holy shit...”

Hands palmed at his ass roughly as Cas chuckled. “I never said you won’t be fucked.”

Something hard and blunt was pressed against Dean’s ass. Too thick to be a finger and clearly not a cock he found himself confused. Big had to be the only word to describe it. There was pressure against his back as Cas leaned in, breathing right against his ear, and fucking dragged his teeth down the shell. “I’m going to fuck you with this eggplant as you beg and scream for more,” he whispered, voice dark.

Dean’s face burned hot. That was- that was so fucking embarrassing. What kind of person let themselves be fucked by a vegetable? And worse the pressure to his cock building and building. He hated how the thought of being fucked like this made him so hot. Releasing a shaky breath he jerked his head in a nod. “Ye- yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” Right before Cas pushed in with the vegetable he stopped, smacking his ass once more. “And do not come until I tell you,” he growled. “I want you gagging for this eggplant before I do.” And that was the only warning Dean got before it filled him. No prep. Given Cas didn’t push roughly, but still. Good thing Victor fucked him just this morning.

“Oh, oh fuck,” Dean groaned, grinding back against the vegetable. He was desperate for more. Just needing.

“God, Dean. When was the last time you were fucked? Taking it so well. Such a little whore for it, aren’t you?” Cas snarled as he stretched him. There was a burning, a small stinging sensation, but the amount of beers he had took the edge right off.

Cas worked him open with the eggplant out and in until he was a whimpering mess. When Dean writhed and tried to fuck himself back it was dragged out of him in a way that made his toes curl. “Please, please, please,” he begged.

A sharp intake of breath. Then, panting. Holy shit. It- it sounded like Cas was jacking himself off. “So loose, slut. Greedy for it. Your hole almost swallows it up. You don’t even care you are being fucked with food, do you? Just need to get off.” He applied more pressure, and Dean’s vision nearly freakin’ blurred when he stopped completely. “Beg for me.”

“Yes sir. Need you. Need anything from you. Fuck me more fuck me harder. Don’t give a shit what you do, just need somethin.’ Please sir feels so good,” Dean gasped. He threw his head back, heart racing.

The eggplant pressed in again filling him once more. Groaning he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off. Stiffening and clenching he tried everything not to come. Cas said not to, he wanted to be a good boy.

A smack landed on his ass. “Fuck you with what? What am I fucking you with, Dean?” Cas demanded. Another smack. “Am I preparing you for my cock? What am I doing?”

Dean could hardly talk with how his head spun. “No sir,” he managed to get out, breath shaky. “A vegetable. You are fucking me with a vegetable. S’not good enough for your cock, need to be punished. I tri- tried to steal,” he whined lowly, squirming at the sudden change of angle.

“Good boy, come.”

Warmth spread over the tops of his thigh until it erupted spreading everywhere. Screaming from the overwhelming fucking pleasure Dean’s vision went white. He whined, shuddering, and slumped further against the shelf of vegetables he was bent over. The high overtook him and he hardly registered when Cas pulled the eggplant out of his ass. Then Cas was coming, cock pressed hot against him as he shot his load all over his cheeks.

Face split in a hazed out grin Dean’s brain is still offline when a few minutes later Cas turns him over. In the process the plastic binds are ripped from his wrists. Pupils blown wide and blue eyes dark the man pulled him in to a rough kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth- like a freakin’ brand with his mouth. Groaning Dean kisses back eagerly wrapping his arms around Cas’ neck. It occurs to him that he now has come painting his ass but he doesn’t even give a single fuck.  
  
They make out ‘till Dean’s breathless. From the kiss his lips are slick and swollen red. Mind going everywhere he doesn’t even know what to think. He watches Cas instead, watches the clench of his jaw and the rise of his chest in that shitty white polo. “You are so fucking gorgeous,” he growled right before starting to attack at his neck with his lips.

Ha, maybe Dean isn’t the only one with no self control. He moaned when Cas freakin’ bit at his neck most likely leaving teeth marks. Dude was biting hard at the skin.“Shit Cas- ah, fuck. You are such a kinky mother fucker,” he gasped.

Cas smirked, eyes shining with amusement. “I know. And you had an eggplant buried in your ass.”

Despite himself Dean snorted. He could feel how hot his face burned. “Don’t mock me,” he mumbled. He stares at the man for several seconds, not knowing how to word his question. Dean coughed awkwardly. While he tried to stammer out his question he noticed that Cas began to play with his nipples. Holy shit.

Oh, shit. That feels awesome. Not that he could get hard again so quick. He’s still riding the high. Cas rolled his nipple and Dean almost squeaks. He is so fucking self conscious right now. “Uh...” They were literally on top of vegetables in the produce aisle at Walmart. Cas is the man that called him a slut and fucked him with an eggplant.

“What is it, Dean?” Those blue eyes are burning right into his freakin’ soul.

Finally he gathered up the courage to talk. “So uh... um, can I have your number?”

Cas tilted his head, eyes squinted. “Can I have your number...?” He trailed off, making it clear what his intent was.

Shit. He’d never met anyone like this. Dean knew exactly what Cas wanted him to say, though. He cracked a smile, face turning a whole new shade of red. Seriously fucking Picasso wouldn’t even know what to call this crap. Dean breathed out as his heart slammed in his chest. “Can I have your number, sir?”

“Yes you can, my sweet boy.”

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> SAVING YOUR COMPUTER IS STILL POSSIBLE! LEAVE BEFORE THE VIRUS CAN GET ANY WORSE.  
> -
> 
> Written for SPN Coldest Hits.  
> If the super porn-y vibes with a vegetable didn't make sense it might now, ha ha. Or the virus at the end. ;)
> 
> Also I don't know even know how this ended up 6k lmfao.
> 
> If you enjoyed this trash feel free to hit up my ask on tumblr at gankyourdarlings.
> 
> No need for any kudos or comments, though!


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